His touch, His smell No one can compare; His mind, so bewitching and aware; His tongue, like magic crossing between lands and onto valleys that parts the mountains as the sun sets and there leaves me in the twilight, silently basking in the afterglow My body, like putty in his hands, melts when he is near... And with his gaze — I could only compare: Him like the sun and I.. A glacier affected by it Or as he thinks of me the flower with plenty of nectar to spare (Oh dear)
~ Step into the moment with bated breath, There will come the beguilement and whispered shadows at play, they seem to congeal around conflagration of wills and spirits considered outré.
And if it should rain within these walls, we'll advance south and sneak under cover. Fingers will find, lips will linger and remind. It will be a slow recovery this time.
The places we travel go beyond the arms reach, they war for supremacy, they alter and spasm, they're random, but hover between us in unity.
This dance we make is an intimate ballet, this push and pull a blissful menagerie, a wrinkle in time we call ecstasy. In kisses christened as luminaries, appointing our own ceiling — a mural painted in the keen colors of craving.
The years of such sweet communion have built this shelter, this nest, and here together we rest. And we are no less surrendering to them than straddling the heavens — the gauze of time, timber and tranquility enmeshed, and wishing it never ends. ~
Of all the anger and hurt and pain I am left with Nothing but a mere memory Nothing but two bare bodies lost deep in understanding each other's pieces and muffled laughter and glee kept hidden as to not overthink each carress and fond eyes looking back and trembling hands touching so soft barely there